Fallen Sentinel
by Kiwiruvian
Summary: A sentinel who's duty she put above all, a stern fallen paladin who played too closely with arts of shadows and unknown. She, his personal headache. He, her constant target, because playing with fire was what she did best. (Story on hold, consider it complete... for now)
1. Fallen Sentinel

A chair crashed on the wall, splintering with the force of the impact.

From across the room the figure's eyes were bright with barely contained anger, their silvery hue made her features look all the more eerie in the darkness. Dim moonlight through a window showed her tense posture, hands clenched to either side and nails digging into palms, threatening to break skin. Almost too pale hair cascaded down her back stopping just above her waist, dark pink shade of her skin clearly stated her as a Kal'dorei, as if long ears angling back, weren't clue enough.

The now broken chair would have burned to ashes with the magnitude of her glare, as if it were been the culprit of her pain.

No, it was all her fault. She had known it was going too far, she'd be pushing the boundaries of what was expected for someone of her rank. She, proud elven warrior, sentinel, shouldn't have allowed it and had done the right thing by walking away.

A vase of elven design also met the wall.

She traced fingers through hair, holding it on the top of her head and took a steadying breath. Eyes closed. For a moment keeping still, collecting herself to avoid any further damage to the Order's property. She already had much to explain, not only the now broken pieces on the ground, but it hadn't escaped the captain's notice her periodic disappearances, even for days sometimes. But knowing of her innate independent spirit and hadn't asked much of it... yet.

Another good reason to have ended it that night. She owed much to the Order and had sworn in Elune's name to protect what it stood for and fight the against darkness that threatened Kalimdor. She had done exactly the opposite many times and it still bothered her greatly.

She lowered her hand, turning her glare to the full moon in the sky that seemed to both, offer comfort and mock her.

It had only happened that afternoon, but as she stood in front of the glass pane covering the window seemed like days had already passed. Not that she'd ever admit to missing him.

He had cast the barest of glances down to the bag thrown at his feet, but turned grey and shadow eyes to meet her moon-touched ones instead. Expression concealed under the cowl, although she could have sworn to see the smallest tightening of lips. Or had she imagined it? Had she hoped for him to say something? To stop her retreating form as she turned her back to him and strode out of the Inn his cult, Shadowlords as they called themselves, used as a hang out?

_No_. She mentally scolded. She had gone, single mission in mind and had carried it out. Outcome would have not been swayed no matter his reaction or words. Her jaw clenched and she barely kept herself from driving her fist through the window.

The bag had contained many items he had given her at one time or another, little gifts that she had accepted... for some reason she did not dare to think about. All but one and she lowered her hand to her navel, where the crimson teardrop gem rested.

He had told her to keep everything, but was ignored. There was really nothing in those items that interested her: dresses, jewelry. All meaningless to her sentinel upbringing.

She brushed fingers over the smooth gem. Except this one. She told herself it was but an oversight, that in her haste she had forgotten about it true though? or was she once again lying to herself? Perhaps the one gem had more meaning to her... She silenced the thought immediately.

A slight frown appeared between her pale brows and she pursed her lips. It was too late to return it now, but she could not bring herself to get rid of the gem either.

She dropped the hand from the piece and turned to pick up her blade, which she had placed down -or rather thrown- when she walked into the room. As she was about to return the item to its rightful place at her back, the reflection of her eyes caught her attention. Even she could see the harshness forming, of one that does her duty and protects others, but keeps them at arm's length. A silent observer and a weapon herself. No longer was she going to be haunted by leading a double life.

A guilty pleasure. He had called it once, just as a hand traced the length of her stomach and lips brushed over her neck.

Averting her gaze, sword was finally strapped back in place. She strode out of the room, new determination showing in every step.


	2. Memories

Time closed wounds, even if sometimes it left behind scars on skin and souls.

Years had passed since she had seen last the Dark Lord. Many times over she had risked her life, many lives she had helped, many others she had trained, but only very few she had allowed close enough to call friends.

She had grown careless though. More and more she had barged into danger without thinking twice of the consequences. Alone, she would not risk anyone else but herself. The commander had noticed this and more. He had taken her aside and give her the one option, time away from the chaos in which she had found a purpose and which was consuming her.

That was how and why she found herself back in the forest of Ashenvale, trekking along a path that had not seen visitors in years. Only the hawk-owl, Midnight, she had been given as companion seemed content with the change.

She saw him fly past the treetops only to suddenly dive, fast as an arrow, after catching sight of a decent prey. She scoffed, amused when he circled around her, showing off his price before perching on the roof of the cottage which was her destination.

She stopped for a long moment, bag on shoulder and a grim expression. Finally, she entered. Reluctant steps echoed inside the house. She swept the room with a glance, thirteen years abandoned. Thirteen years since its last inhabitant died in the hands of one of his loved ones, his own blood.

It was going to take some work to get the place back to its former elegance, that much she knew but at least would give her a short term purpose. With a sigh, she bent to pick up a broken chair lying on the middle of the main chamber. Her eyes shifted to the item it revealed, a wooden glaive...

* * *

_Two kal'dorei girls dashed though the Ashenvale forest. The first one stopped by the lake, breathing slightly labored and barely avoiding falling into the water as her sister crashed into her. She turned narrowed eyes to the other, but couldn't help the grin, even as she brushed silvery strands away from her face. _

_The sister snickered and shrugged a shoulder. "Sorry, Ky-" the apology was cut short as the silver haired one tackled and tickled her sister, Nixxavhari. Between giggles and roughhousing, typical of their age, they pointed imaginary foes and told each other their battle plans to slay beasts, demons and trolls._

_Later that night, the forest fell silent all of the sudden; the girls looked at each other from the corner of their eyes, even in their youth knowing it could only mean danger or that a predator was in the proximity. They slowly rose from the ground, their movements nearly in sync. Finally Nixx touched the other's arm, a slight nod towards the edge of the trees. Two pairs of silvery eyes focused in the darkness. Barely hidden in the shadows a beast moved, bright gaze seeming to lock with the girls'. _

_The bear stepped into the clearing and stood on hind legs. It roared, deep, loud rumble that scared birds from nearby trees. Both girls seemed frozen in place as they saw it charging to them, big mistake they knew but was too late, the regret of venturing so far from their elven village pointless now. _

_The beast seemed ready to swipe a huge paw at them, when something crashed into it, making him lose balance but its assaulter was not big enough to pin it. _

_The newcomer managed to wrap an arm around the bear's neck, securing the hold with her other hand. That woke the girls from their trance. "Mom!" They shouted at the same time. _

_The elf, dressed in kaldorian battle gear and icy-blue unbound hair, smirked at them and shouted back. "Quick sentinels! Grab your glaives!" They blinked at each other, same question in their eyes, what glaives?_

_The bear kept trying to shake the elf off his back. The silver haired one elbowed her sister and pointed some items lying by their mother's belongings a few steps away. Wooden glaives, those that the younger sentinels used to train with. So many times they had asked for those, only to be told they were too young. Time to prove them wrong! _

_The beast's eyes widened in fear as both girls approached with the glaives raised, their eyes bright with excitement as they attempted their best to look fierce._

_The bear stopped all struggle, even with the elven woman still with a tight hold around his neck. A emerald glow surrounded his form reshaping its body, a male elf appeared instead, holding hands up in surrender. "Mercy. Oh, great sentinels!". He implored. _

_The girls tried to hold back a giggle and took another step forward. "A swift death is mercy enough!" The female elf replied, shifting enough to stand behind him and tilted his head back to expose his neck. _

_The girls looked at each other, brow slightly raised. "But I do not feel so merciful tonight." She whispered to the male elf's ear. "So torture at the hands of your daughters it is." She laid a kiss on his neck, to which the male responded with a silly grin. She then kissed his lips before letting him go. "All yours sentinels". _

_The girls giggled and ran to the open arms of their father. He kissed them on their foreheads and ruffled their hair after standing. _

_"Not so fast Huntress." He took his mate by the waist before she could move away and pulled her into his arms as both twins, silver and blue haired, lost no time to practice with the new toys…_

* * *

The breeze, whistling against a broken window brought her back from the memory. She sighed and picked up the glaive, then turned the wooden toy over to trace a finger over the worn carving. A name in Darnassian runes, Kyphaz. A slight smile crossed the elf's lips and she laid it carefully on the table.

Little their parents would suspect that, yes, despite both their younger daughters grew up to join and train with the sentinels of Ashenvale, their lives would take drastic turns when the Kal'dorei joined the efforts against the Lich King.

At least Kyphaz could find comfort in that her mother had died long before seeing the corpse of her daughter, with maddened eerie blue eyes, driving a wicked blade through the heart of her lifelong bond-mate. She had though, and had sworn over the cooling corpse of her father to avenge him. To put an end to Nixxavhari's curse, to allow her the denied eternal rest.

She let her bag rest on a dust covered bed and she sat next to it, resting forearms on her knees, fingers interlaced as she revived memories she much rather keep buried away.

Midnight came flapping his wings to settle on her shoulder. She did not look at it but kept her gaze forth. "You think they'll forgive me someday?" The owl made a soft hoot and went back to cleaning its feathers, uninterested. She scoffed and stood, gaining an annoyed peck to her ear from Midnight before he glided to perch on the headboard.

She would not think of it any longer, she had done what she believed right. As always. No matter the price, nor the fact that each decision she seemed to take fragmented her own soul even further. "Time to clean this mess."


	3. Welcome Back, Little Elf

The sun had just settled behind the mountains, the forest felt familiar and not all at the same time; maybe it was a result of decades away from the protective shade of the ancient trees and their green- purple tones. It had certainly been some time since the elven woman had stopped to just enjoy the quiet of the forest, specially this one. Ashenvale.

Her life had been overtaken by the rush of battle, the raucous clang of metal against metal and the cries of sisters in arms. The only other time it wasn't, there was a different kind of noise, a voice, a quiet deep tone of one she met long ago. One that she found herself drawn to, if with mixed feelings; One that she found secret enjoyment on rebelling against that even now brought a slight smirk to full lips; One voice that had played on her mind over and over since a night months back when she chose duty over everything else, over him. And since then, the same choice had been made over and over, even if it meant to risk her own life, she had taken her duty first and foremost.

She shook her head and then turned moon-touched gaze to the night's sky, vantage point on a high branch allowed her to see the stars and the goddess form without the interruption of leaves or hills. She brushed a pale strand from her face as the warm breeze rustled treetops. Midnight was not with her that time and it was fine with her. Perhaps he had found a worthy prey and was enjoying the hunt, she knew he would come back at his own time, he always did.

It had been only a few weeks now since she set foot again in her childhood home. It had kept her busy but even after finished, old ghosts refused to disappear. At first she thought new memories would take their place, but every room, the very furnishings and worn wood brought them back and not only those, but the one memory she tried to hide from.

She sighed, lowering a hand to the small item encased in her navel. The moonlight reflected the crimson of the carefully cut gem as a thumb traced the smooth surface. He had never said so, but she knew it wasn't a store bought one as many others gems in his collection. Time and power had been invested on the shaping of the teardrop. How she knew of it? Simple. She made sure to know more of him, almost all his secrets as much as he knew hers. She knew his name; not just the moniker used as title, which scared even the bravest of soldiers and marked him as a powerful Darklord. She knew his face and the pale shade of his hair, almost as pale as hers, both usually hidden under dark purple cowl but that allowed through a glint of grey gaze. And so she knew of his secret pastime, skilled hands shaped rough gems into precious work. Did she keep it for that sole reason? Maybe. But she cut herself off before even thinking that there was more to it.

A frown creased her brow, maybe it was time to let go of the all memories, get rid of all that tied her to the past. Shield and glaive had already been left behind after a temporal leave, the once commander of the Order had deem it necessary even if she fought against his reasons, but could do nothing against his insistence. The house, maybe her niece could give it better use and erase from it the old ghosts, bringing to it laughter and happiness of her new family, the twins could grow there. Even the worgen, her niece's mate, might be able to see the advantage of it.

Which only left…

She glanced down at the gem for a long moment. As she was about to remove it, the break of a twig made her stop and sit up. Gem, all but forgotten for the moment. Narrowed eyes were directed to the ground below.

Where those the shadows of moving branches? An animal prowling in search of a prey?

Slowly she lowered herself, as silently as a saber on the hunt. The once peaceful quiet of the forest at night had turned charged, almost a void like quality to it. Landing on a low crouch, long ears twitched once as she strained her hearing; knowing someone, something was watching. Long dagger, once at her belt, seemed to materialize in her hand and was held with familiarity.

Something scurried in the distance and she quickly shifted that way, soft leather boots making light swish sound against the grass and fallen leaves. Chest raised and fell with her breathing, almost too loud to her own ears.

There, still half hidden in the shadows a dark figure stepped forth, almost directly in front of her. She froze. To her right, dry leaves crunched under a boot. To her left, she caught at least other two figures from the corner of her eye. Her heart thumped in her chest. From behind, a branch snapped after being caught in the crease of a robe.

Her hand gripped the dagger, she hadn't yet shifted from her low crouch but feet had moved by an inch as the right position was taken for the charge. They didn't seem in a hurry. What was their purpose?

There had been whispers about of a mysterious group lurking about the elven forest, and some missing elves. Would these hooded figures be them? She wasn't going to be taken down without a fight. Slowly she exhaled; silvery gaze trained on the first one just as she rushed him with a low growl, and only had a moment to wonder why they hadn't moved to help their friend. Why instead of moving aside or running away, the dark one had raised hands, which was mimicked by everyone else circling her, even if she didn't have the time to see it.

Too late she recognized the shadowy tendrils from the darkcasters, the Shadowlords, not even time to wonder what their business where in elven land and just as she was but mere inches away from her target, vicious dagger arching up on a deadly slash, was that all slowed to an almost painful haze. Not even time to finish the curse in elven tongue as darkness took her vision and with it consciousness.

The last thing she remembered, the voice once again. Flash of a memory as a gentle, yet firm, grip tilted her chin exposing her neck to the soft brush of lips and words were whispered to her ear. "Welcome back, little elf."

* * *

Darkness.

A numb like feeling, oppressive miasma that barely gave room to breathe.

Was this what it feels like to die? Was this how it all began or ended? Weird, came the thought, many if not all talked about a tunnel and a light towards the end that brought hope to the soul.

This felt nothing like that. No hope but frustration, a mental growl. The feel of limbs and muscles was there, but even as hard as she tried, couldn't command them to move.

More time passed. How long? She had no idea, but was barely aware when the whisper like noises began. Oh, she did try to make out the words, if anyone could call them that. Growing noise was accentuated by the slam of a door, making her cringe slightly and silence fell in the room all of the sudden.

Once more she attempted, finally been able to shift her head and to crack eyes open. Barely aware of being on a bed, with dark drapes around it. Beyond, a circular room, something about it feeling vaguely familiar. She fought against the heaviness forming on eyelids, trying to focus on the details of the chamber. It was barely lit, dim light probably from a few scattered candles, aiding to the eerie ambiance.

Glint of eyes were the first thing she noticed, the frozen hue of the scourgeborne. They were locked on Kyphaz's. Dark skin in high contrast to bone white shade of long hair. Not a word was muttered, even expression unreadable. Was she real? Or was this just some sort of dream brought by the haze that had not completely lifted, but instead threatened to pull her back into unconsciousness.

The woman approached to the bed, a human, she noticed now that the candles reflected better her features. Exotic, not one of Loarderon nor Stormwind heritage but the desert. A Tanari in life pehaps. Her every movement screamed of danger. Kyphaz fought, trying to keep awake and eyes focused on her. That eerie blue gaze was still trained on hers as the woman stopped, barely a step away from where the elf laid and reached a hand to Kyphaz's chin, gently tilting her head up. The hand was cold, unnaturally so, but maybe not so odd for a scourgeborne.

The woman seemed to study her features but expression never changed. Other hand rose to trace over the elf's cheek, the claw markings. She trailed a cold finger over the length of the dark tattoo down to where it stopped at the side of the elf's lips. To anyone looking might seem almost like a lover's caress, but no feeling was shown on the reborn woman, and the only feeling from the other was pure frustration and anger.

Internal struggle was great, cursing herself mentally for not being able to move, to snap at the scourgeborne to take her hands off. The woman, though, seemed unfazed and kept her close inspection. Cold digits brushed over lips. Something caught her attention though, shifting frozen gaze down to the elf's midsection. The light touch on her lips disappeared. Barest of frowns lightly creased between bone-pale brows, a moment longer and she reached to trace a finger around the elf's navel.

Something cold was in Kyphaz's hand, moon-touched gaze shifted. The woman's fingertips, less than an inch away from the crimson gem encased in the elf's navel. The cold feeling came from the woman's wrist. Instinct had made Kyphaz lash out and grasp it to prevent the scourgeborne from touching the delicate gem. Eyes closed for a long second. "Don't." The word was more breathed than muttered.

The figure simply glanced back up at her, with a simple tug removed her wrist from the elf's hold. Finally, she turned and strode out of the chamber, pulling a dark cowl over her head before slamming the door behind herself.

The quiet, the darkness came again with its oppressive feel. Little energy she had been able to collect, gone. Something she could have done any day with so much ease, took most of her energy this time.

The room faded taking with it consciousness.

…

Light tickling sensation woke her up again. Few where the times she had waked to something similar, keeping others at a distance was something she excelled at. Which seemed strange, had all things been but a dream? Impossible.

She curled fingers on the bed's sheet, a sigh of relief, movement was slowly returning. A good sign at last.

That light tickling came again, rising from bare midriff to neck. Not the scourgeborne, but a larger hand, a man's. Warm fingers grasped her chin and tilted her head gently, exposing throat to the brush of lips. Trying not to alert the one leaning over her, she kept still. Not that she was immune to the tease, but had to do her best not to squirm or tilt her head even further. Such an invitation she had kept for only one. Giving into the guilty pleasure he offered, over and over again until she had put an end to it. Breathing slowly and feigning to be asleep was the best she could do this time, but also allowed herself to take in his scent.

She tensed. Eyes snapping open.

_Oh, Elune… _A mental prayer and a curse in darnassian tongue. Not a dream at all, but very real. A lot more than she'd want it to be.

Now it all made sense.

The hooded figures in the forest, shadow and void tendrils of their power. Shadowlords of course.

The familiar feel of the bed and room. Yes, she had seen them before. She had been here before. Many times under the same canopy had she hated and loved him, the Darklord, always torn between wants and duty. She knew he had enjoyed it too, all too well, for he wouldn't have been so permissive with any other. In a way she felt proud of that, being the only one allowed to go further. Not that she'd have anything less. She had been just as possessive of him as he had been of her. Whereas others had been taken by other Shadowlords, she was to be only at his side. Darklord, Lightbender and other names that brought many that knew of the dark casters to their knees in fear.

She felt the tilt of lips against her skin as he smirked. Too late. He knew, either by power or mystical connection. Or more likely because he just knew her and her body that well. Lips trailed up to her ear.

She weighted options, weapons, stripped from her. But even if she had them, would they have been used? No. Not only because he had shown many times he could win single-handedly, but she wouldn't harm him. No matter what had happened, no matter what will.

Warm breath teased her ear. "Welcome back, little elf."


	4. Training

She tried not to smirk and raised the blade.

Silvery eyes locked on the target in front, a slow breath and she was in motion again. Each step fluid, keeping to the balls of her feet but not in any one spot for longer than a couple seconds, just long enough to change direction and return in an almost leap back to the now battered training dummy. Sand and splinters covered the ground, not only around the one target used but also the others that were scattered about the open terrace. She was the only one now; the rest of the sentinels had retired earlier but she didn't mind, on the contrary, enjoyed the quiet it provided. Whereas other found peace in meditation, she did in training, which required equal amount of concentration.

Blade swung over and over in a blur, each obliterating strike done with practiced precision and the deathly dance continued. Swing, crouch, turn and charge.

She was well aware of grey and shadow eyes following each movement, a silent observer, but still just loud enough for keen ears and well attuned senses to have felt him.

After some time, during which she wondered when he'd give up or tire of watching. She lowered the sword, point down to the ground. Light shine covered deep pink skin while almost ragged breaths heaved her chest. She could feel his piercing gaze as she walked to her belongings and reached for the cloth to dry herself off. Staying on place with her back turned to him, even after heavy footfalls announced his approach.

Some months have passed since she had awakened once again to his presence. Shocked, angry, but maybe not surprised as she knew sooner or later their paths would cross. Although had hoped for it to be later, a lot later, or so she told herself.

He had made his intentions clear; she had been reluctant to believe a word of it and maybe still was. Experience taught her no one was to be completely trusted from way before they had even met. Still though, deep inside she felt relief, glad to see him again if in an almost twisted had tried to deny it, to once again hide behind barriers, self-imposed shields and lies used the night when she left him.

_A firm but gentle hand had tilted her chin, making gazes meet. Moon-touched eyes to storm-like grey, which would perfectly describe their relationship: Calm before the storm or the storm unfolding, even if he could be described as the moon, stern and powerful observer, and she as the storm, reckless sentinel. _

_"Deny that you want me and you may go, know that you won't be kept against your will." She had looked away that time. The silence accepted as an invitation for lips to trace down her neck. Her eyes closed by they own accord, soft sigh almost torn from slightly parted lips as he continued his way down. _

_His hands framed her core, thumbs kneading over tense flesh, slowly making her relax with the sensuous caress. He glanced up then; normally stern expression disappeared into a man's smirk. He just knew her that well, had spent night after night learning her body and the reactions that every single touch brought. Feeling him stop, her eyes opened to look at him. Slowly, he placed a kiss above the crimson gem on her navel. "Your keeping this speaks volumes, even if you decide to remain silent, little elf."_

_Smartass. She narrowed eyes, parting lips and starting to shift to both stand and put him on his place. Darklord or not, she didn't care, never had he intimidated her as much as his sole presence did others. "The reason I kept it is my own…" She almost growled. _

_His hand pinning her to the bed halted her motion, while the other removed the gem. She stilled, unsure for a second, as his attention focused on her birth scar. He lowered lips to her skin in a slowly, but it was the light tease of tongue followed by the graze of teeth that had her curling fingers on the sheets. _

_"You have but to say it and I will stop." He muttered while nuzzling her belly. She took a slow breath, trying to keep herself from squirming. "But when you do it, look at me in the eyes and speak with the truth." _

She shook her head at the memory as a smirk played on her lips. Since that night so much had changed indeed. She had once again joined the sentinels, the Darnassus Cadre this time.

He stood behind her and reached up to brush her pale hair over a shoulder, exposing the other to a light kiss.

"Isn't it risky for you to be here? The sentinels know of the Shadowlord's presence in kal'dorei land." She leaned back against his chest, tossing the cloth to the ground.

"Your worry is misplaced, but yes I am well aware of that." He wrapped an arm around her waist, fingertips tracing over the gem at her navel, causing her to shift slightly. His other hand reached up to trace the faint puncture scars over her shoulder, stopping on one of the longer ones where its shape betrayed the tearing of the skin. "The one that did this had a merciful demise, much more than he deserved." Power unfolded with his anger, cold, unforgiving but she was used to the feel of the shadow against her skin. Tendrils, invisible to the untrained eye, seemed to form a protective barrier around them.

"She." She interrupted, correcting him. "And is dead now the Order took care of it." She fought the slight tensing of muscles that the memory brought.

The change in posture did not go unnoticed though, and tightened his hold on her. "I will not allow any harm to come to you again." He vowed, but his anger was soon replaced with a smirk of his own. "Unless is that of punishment, at my hand, when you choose to disobey me."

She rolled eyes but did not move from his embrace. "I just bet..." She mocked him.

He gripped her chin, baring her neck to the graze of teeth. "You are mine, little elf." He simply whispered against his skin.


	5. Nightmare

_Branches snapped against her sides and twigs broke under her bare feet as she sprinted in the forest. Darkshore looked exactly as it had been before Xaxas created chaos and destruction all over the place._

_She was being followed... 'He' was following her, she knew it and it brought a smirk to lips even as her chest heaved with the effort to keep her pace. She was not going to allow him to gain any advantage._

_She felt like laughing. Oh, she could only picture his expression when he found her letter on the desk of his study. 'I'm leaving. I've had enough of you and your cult.'_

_A rolling thunder brightened the dark forest for a second. It didn't stop her. She was sure to be able to hear the hooves of his black stallion as he 'attempted' to make his way through the forest. Silly human. She already had a plan developed, if he got too close she'd simply climb a tree and wait there until he passed by and she'd take exactly the opposite direction._

_A horse snorted and neighed in the distance. Damn, she was loosing speed. _

_The moon reflected on her long silvery hair, to anyone looking it might seem almost as if a ghost was trying to rush through the forest. Duck a low hanging branch. Jump over a stream. Hop over a fallen log. Her body flowed with the wind and the shadows. _

_Far away the lights of Auberdine greeted her in between dense forest. She grinned to herself. He would not risk following her that far..._

_Overhead clouds gathered, she... found that odd. Why would rain come if it was supposed to be the dry season?_

_A dark figure stepped out of the shadows and right in front of her path. She stopped abruptly. How...?_

_It raised a hand and a dark power, that of tombs and crypts hit her full in her chest. She felt herself falling into an abyss of darkness... She could not call for help to the darklord, she knew was really close behind her... _

Kyphaz rolled in her sleep, a frown forming between her brows as she clenched her hand over the silk sheets...

_A cold breeze made her shiver. _

_Her eyes snapped open, lips parted in a gasp as even the slight movement brought with it a sharp pain on arms and neck. _

_Why was she this cold? Last she remembered the calm draft through an open window was warm earlier that afternoon when she had fallen asleep in the Dark Lord's chambers._

_She could not stop shivering._

_The quietness of the room did not last long though, a mocking laugh that echoed in the darkness. Pain, discomfort, even the numbing cold was forgotten as she snapped eyes up._

_"No… Impossible." Was her own whispered reassurance, but widened eyes were already trying to scan through the shadows for the location of the scougebourne._

_Oh, she knew all too well whose voice it was. That cold laugh, even colder than the frozen air current from the Northrend land she had been held in years back, it had haunted her for nights after being rescued and even after been assured, by the commander of the Order, that the rogue ebon knight had been dealt with effectively. _

_Back then, she had reawakened in the Order's headquarters, to the healing chants of a druidess and the worried eyes of a few brothers and sisters in arms. Shivering almost as much as she was right now, thinking she was still in the dark dungeon the death knight had kept her in. __Her mind had reacted in a way to protect itself. She had not been able to recall all of it __other than occasional glimpses, blood loss and exhaustion had also helped to it__. Sadly though, it had not protected her at night where all the pain and fear came back to life and with vengeance. _

_She ignored the pain in shoulders and arms and didn't need to glance down to herself to know that her clothing, armor and weapons had all been removed just like while under the scourgeborne's 'care' those years ago. Only short lasting warmth came from the slowly streaming blood of her still fresh wounds. The worse of them, those she did not dare to turn to look at in case the movement ripped more of her skin as it had done before. Hooks dangling from the ceiling had been placed all along arms and pulled tight enough so only toes touched the ground._

_Three days she had been suspended exactly the same way and she had made the initial mistake of struggling against the bonds, ripping many of the hooks. _

_A shadow stirred and Kyphaz's gaze snapped to it. _

_Slow steps in heavy plated boots came closer, the cruel laugh still rang in her ears. Oh how she hoped to be wrong. Soon she did not need to narrow eyes to try and catch a glimpse of her capturer. The blue fire on the scourgeborne's gaze flashed bright through the darkness and locked on the trapped kal'dorei. _

_Just like she remembered, fine features in bone pale skin and shorter ears than her own. The reborn high elf stopped in front of her, a smirk forming on too pale lips "A long time it has been. Missed me, belore?"_

_Frustration, anger, thirst for long due revenge boiled in her. Through clenched teeth she replied, trying beyond hope to hide not only traces of fear but the trembling brought by the low temperature. "T-the Order hunt-hunted you down.__You… You are dead.__"_

_"Tsk tsk." She got closer still. "Am I?" A cold hand reached to play with one of the hooks over Kyphaz's shoulder. She traced the string up and down. The slow vibration of the hook threatening to tear skin"Shall we reassume our little game? We were so rudely interrupted the first time by your little friends." _

_She smirked at the Kyphaz. Without giving her enough time to brace herself, the one hook was ripped off…_

_…_

She bolted to a sitting position with a gasp, hands gripping the dark linen sheet pooling over her legs, while moon-touched gaze traveled around the dimly lit room. Through the one open window she saw the moon and stars, probably just after midnight judging by its position. She reached a hand to her forehead, eyes closed as she took a steadying breath, trying to calm the wild thumping of her heart.

A dream, just a dream.

She shook her head, chasing away the last of the nightmare and the drowsiness. It was then, that hands held her sides and she tensed. Reaching, reacting almost without thinking, for the dagger hidden by her side of the bed.

Almost as fast, if not faster, a strong hand closed around her wrist before fingers were able to brush the metal and slowly pulled her back. She had been so distracted, lost in nightmare and memories that had not heard or felt when he shifted on the bed as well, soon after she woke up.

"Nightmare." He simply stated. Calm tone deceptive. Charged with cold, unforgiving anger.

He needed not her confirmation nor for her to say what had it been about. She had given in enough to tell him the story behind each scar she had gotten since their time apart and through her voice he had been able to guess which memories where the ones that haunted her the most.

"Just a dream." She repeated out loud. Where others might have apologized by the quick reaction at trying to reach for a weapon, she did not. And it didn't bother him either, after all, her pride was one of the things that had allured him to the once sentinel. Instead, he pulled her closer.

"Liar." Word was muttered against the sensitive skin on her neck causing a pleased shiver, managing to break through her still tense posture. She scoffed softly in response, but tilted her head to his searching lips. Kisses where trailed over her shoulder stopping over a faint scar, before continuing lower.

"I should go anyway. I am expected for a patrol in Darkshore with the sentinels in a few hours." She could almost feel the smirk forming where lips brushed just below her neck. Hands trailed from her shoulders and down her arms. A content sigh, but then she shifted to sit up he caught both her wrists this time.

She raised a brow, looking over a shoulder at him. Dark gaze met her own, making her narrow eyes and try pulling her wrists free. He only tightened his hold. The silent challenge in his eyes was one she knew well and had always enjoyed if in a twisted way.

"The Shadowlords had been warned away from those lands, your sisters will not need your presence there." He nuzzled below her ear.

She blinked, taken by surprise at the news. When had he ordered them away and why? "I will go nevertheless. Let go." The request was accentuated by another tug.

He quirked a brow, looking up once more. "Will you?" Leaning closer he brushed lips against her own. "Try."

Her lips tugged into a smirk even as she trapped his lower lip between her teeth. "Try to keep me here." She whispered back after releasing him.

Much faster than she expected, he both lowered her back to the bed and pulled both hands above her head. Holding them secured in one of his, while the other traced down her side.

"I will do more than just try."

* * *

His elven headache was once again asleep on his chest. This he had missed the most in their time apart and the only reason behind his forcing her to stay this night. To see her now, in profound sleep without haunting dreams was all he needed to feel content right then.

Yes, he had ordered the Shadowlords away from the Kal'dorei lands. Had even threatened them with the worse of deaths if he ever found out that any of them had been capturing night elves for any reason.

He knew well he'd have to deal with the anger of many lords sooner or later. It did not bother him. He was the Mind's Eye, Lightbender, Dark Lord and the leader of the Shadowlords. Most, if not all, feared him and those stupid enough to confront him where soon reminded of their fatal mistake.

He traced a hand over Kyphaz's pale hair, stroking soothingly. She knew well of all his affairs with the Shadowlords, he knew as well it to be the reason for her leaving him. But as much as he wanted to shelter her, he would not hide the truth.

Selfish, perhaps, but selfless too. Since her leaving, he had found no remorse in doing anything in his hands to raise in the ranks until the opportunity had presented itself and he had finally taken charge. Many had died at his hands, tortured, sacrificed for more power, in battle, in the dungeons, but all had been for a justifiable cause. And it now rested in his arms.


	6. Dark Politics

Each step of plated boots echoed in the otherwise quiet corridor. The one or two acolytes that he encountered on his way quickly moved aside, almost tripping upon themselves to give way to Arodamus, the Darklord, in between respectful bows and muttered greetings. Perhaps noticing if in a subconscious way or by means of stern posture and purposeful stride, his foul mood at having been disturbed that night.

He did not care for their deferential ways and ignored each one of them. Thoughts divided between the Kal'dorei he left back in his chambers and the 'emergency' one of the lower Shadowlords had interrupted with. He allowed the shadows of the cowl to hide the barest of smirks at the memory of the elf of moon hued hair and deep pink skin wrapped around his body after a long, pleasurable night for both. His though, seemed was not going to end just yet.

Now it was time to focus on the issue at hand, all concerns of his personal life stowed away for the time being. Although, and knowing her well, he wondered what she'd be up to during his absence. He scoffed mentally, soon enough he'll discover it. If not by her own willingness to share her little adventure, by means of noticing little details and hints he had grown attuned to when it came to his chosen one.

He pushed open the doors, silencing effectively any mutters and whispers between the few Shadow lords and mistresses present. A single sweep of grey eyes about the room noticed the absence of one he somehow expected to be there, in the mists of the last concern to the cult.

Lord Zeroel's absence was one easy to ignore though, if anything he did notice the presence of his consort among the scattered crowd. Ellennah stood with a few other lords, shadow aura visible in form of tendrils hugging her form. Like all the others she turned towards him after his entrance. Arodamus new enough of her relationship with the Lord Zeroel to find it somewhat intriguing that one would be there but not the other.

He strode into the room, eyes now focused on the woman being held by two Shadowlords by means of dark tendrils of their power. Another lord came to step next to him, he bowed before speaking.

"Mind's Eye." He greeted with yet another of Arodamus' titles. "This is the one found sneaking around the fortress. Set off a spell when she attempted to enter." Lord Jasodus said.

The Darklord gave a curt nod and crossed arms. The woman was dressed in dark leather from head to toe, daggers of many sizes where contained in the belt about her waist. One of her capturers had her mask in his hand.

"Do tell, who do you work for and how did you know of this place." The other lords had moved closer, making an almost perfect circle around the prisoner, the Darklord and the ones keeping the spells to contain the woman.

"Why should I tell you? Either way it is the end of me, might as well kill me now." She raised her chin in an almost arrogant way.

"No." Arodamus simply replied.

"There will be not such an easy way out. If someone sent you here, then more know of us." Jasodus paused as the Darklord unfolded arms and reached for the belt. "And you will tell us."

She tensed as soon as his hand brushed her waist. Wild eyes looked from him to the rest of the room. "Wh-what are you doing?" He glanced up at her once the belt with all daggers was removed.

The Darklord raised a brow, action hidden by the shadows of the cowl. She quickly pressed lips in a tight line, knowing well of her mistake at giving away her nervousness. Very low whispers started between the other lords gathered. He removed one of the daggers and gave the belt and other items it contained to the one lord at his side.

He turned the dagger in his hand, finally tracing a finger over a small symbol at the base of the blade. The woman glared, biting back a curse. "SI:7." Arodamus said after extending the blade to the lord. A single step brought him a breath apart from the woman, whom shifted as much as the shadow restraints allowed, trying to cringe away from him. "So the Alliance know of us." The whispers got louder.

"Silence." Lord Jasodus glared about the room.

"I do not know anything and if I did, I would not tell you." She repeated.

The Darklord gripped her chin and tilted her head up. "Oh, I think you do and will." Her caramel eyes were wide in barely supressed fear.

He released her and nodded to the two holding the spell together. Silent command well understood by both. They took an arm each and carried her out of the room. Her struggles well ignored but her shouted words difficult to.

"Rapists." He repeated, too low for anyone else to hear. Grey eyes grew darker, shadow hue merging with his natural color.

"Someone among us." He called to the Shadowlords. They all stopped talking and looked at him. "Has either become a traitor or careless. The later rather than the former, judging by this spy's words. But the damage has been done and our secrecy is endangered."

He looked from one lord to the next. Piercing gaze stopping on the one Shadow-mistress that flaunted her shadow aura in the form of void tendrils. Ellennah met his grey eyes for a long moment but averted her gaze soon after, the tendrils around her thickened in an almost nervous response. "I expect and if necessary will enforce discretion from each of you." The darklord walked past all of them, to a throne like seat at one end of the room. "Now leave and make sure to spread the message among the rest."

Ellennah did not need him to look at her again to know what he was referring to. She cursed under her breath. He knew, somehow he knew of her consort's so called experiments and actions or at the very least suspected them.

"Lord Jasodus, accompany Lady Ellennah back to her chambers." Arodamus said as he sat.

The man holding the spy's belt bowed his head. "Of course, my Lord."

Ellennah knew better than to refuse. She met the Darklord's eyes for a moment before bowing her head slightly and turning to leave with the other Lord. Unspoken was that she was to remain there for the rest of the night and the other lord would have to make sure of it.

All the other hooded figures had left the room. All but one, whose frozen gaze was on the Darklord. He beckoned her closer, by both the slight flick of fingers and mental link long ago forged between master and enslaved scourgebourne.

The lowering of her hood revealed dark complexion and long bone-white hair. Expressionless visage unnerved many but him. She carried herself with the deathly confidence of a once gladiator, dark kilt and vest made of black chainmail complimented well the contrast of her whole appearance.

"Master." She greeted, stepping even closer when he reached for her and waited for his command while he traced fingers over her side as if she was a precious token. He did not need to voice that he had a task for the once death knight, the mental link was all there was needed to convey that much of the message.

"Find him. Deliver the warning." She nodded, eyes flaring to life in blue energy. The smallest of tugs of her lips, normally easy to ignore did not go unseen by him. "Do not kill him or permanently cripple him. I believe he can still be of use to us."

Standing, he cupped her cheek, not disturbed at all by the unnaturally cold feel of her skin. Leaning over, a gentle kiss was placed on her forehead. "Report to me tomorrow, my loyal pet." He lowered his hand, following her with his gaze as she left the room, on her back the blades were already glowing with runic power. He nodded, satisfied with her eagerness to please him by following his commands and knowing that the task would be completed successfully.

The room was once again quiet. Arodamus reached a low table and uncapped one of the many bottles to pour the golden liquid into a glass. He was not one of those whose powers dealt with the guessing and predicting the possible outcomes of the future but somehow knew, as the sharp liquid warmed his throat, that it was something he'd need before returning to his own chambers to deal with his elven headache.

* * *

It was not often that Kyphaz ventured deeper into the halls of the Shadowlord's fortress. This would actually be the first time in years. Even back then it was her Darklord the one escorting her through the torch lit corridors for whatever bitter sweet torture he had in mind. Tonight though, she had taken advantage of him being called away to explore more of the premises on her own.

Oh. She had no doubt he'd be ticked off when, not if, he discovered her wandering about, something he had warned against over and over.

A knock came to the chamber's door earlier that night while they were lying on the large bed. She only opened her eyes, noticing when his hand stopped stroking her hair and settled on her back. Rarely did she allow herself to lower her guard in such a way, as always though, with him she made the exception. Fingers curled in an almost possessive way over her skin. The glare he directed the door would have easily reduced it to ashes. When it did not and the insistent noise continued, he huffed in annoyance and shifted her half sleep form from his chest and down to the pillows. She watched with mild interest as he pulled on pants and opened the door, a slight smirk making it to her lips when the hooded man cringed at seeing himself face to face with the intimidating gaze of grey and shadows eyes, or perhaps the fact that he had clearly interrupted one of the more powerful lords of their cult. Few words were muttered between them, something that in her drowsy state she did not find any interest on overhearing.

Her ear twitched at his almost growled response though and quirked a brow as the door was slammed shut on the face of the other man. Moontouched gaze followed him as he got dressed, she turned propping herself up on elbows to take a better look at him.

"I have to leave, it will not take long" Finally he turned and walked to the bed. He grasped her chin and leaned down to kiss her lips.

"Okay." She simply replied, but eyes narrowed ever so slightly, wondering what would require such urgency that he had to leave at that hour. He nodded and released her, pulling the midnight hood over his head before going past the door and closing it behind himself.

She sighed, lying back down and looking up to the dark canopy. Few minutes passed and she looked about, a slow smirk crossed her lips. Curiosity killed the nightsaber her people used to say, she was about to test the theory. Once she located the pieces of her armor and had put them on, making sure the dark dagger was securely fastened for a quick draw. Her weapons of choice were usually glaives or bows. This time though, and for the sake of stealth, the shorter blade will have to do. She walked out the door then, not before making sure the corridor was deserted.

Shadows where easier to use as camouflage when it came to the forest, in the cobblestone halls the task was more complicated. She did manage to slip past the one or two hooded figures, relying on silent feet and hunting techniques long ago learned and ingrained. In quiet prowl she was able to move deeper and deeper into the fortress, until finally something caught her attention. Single door slightly ajar and a barely lit room.

She casted a glance over her shoulder before getting closer to it. Slowly the door was pushed open and she walked inside. A pale brow rose at the look of the place. Manacles had been placed all along the walls and a few tables in the middle of the room as if they were set up for a less than agreeable audience.

The solid tables felt cold under her fingers, stained wood had probably beard witness to many atrocities she did not allowed herself to think about. She paced along the walls, noticing similar stains here and there. Finally she stopped in front of a broken clasp, raising a hand to trace the metal. A frown appeared between her brows, what could have been strong enough to break free from something like this.

"Well, what do we have here." The mocking tone broke her mental tirade. Slowly she turned to face him. No need to react without thinking, if the man had been silent enough to sneak up on her, he would have easily killed her by now.

Immediately she knew she was in front of another Shadowlord, faint outline of shadows only the most powerful knew how to hide surrounded him. As if the cowl in dark purple shade was not enough to show for his status within the cult. Close trimmed goatee, a devious smirk and tanned skin was all the hood allowed to see.

Her eyes narrowed, not one she had ever dealt with before. Fingers curled slowly, itching to hold the reassuring weight of the dagger in her hand. She shifted her stance, something that not many would have noticed but somehow the lord facing her did. His lips lost some of the mocking overconfidence, turning into an almost challenging baring of teeth. A predator that enjoyed the hunt, not only a man with dark power.

"Think you can fight your way out of here? Amusing. I have to say, it's not often someone volunteers so readily to be a subject for my 'experiments' but I can already see you will be a perfect vessel." He prowled closer, there was no other way to describe the way he moved. Not in the graceful way nightsabers did on silent paws, more of the cocky way a wolf closed to the cornered prey. "Do tell, elf. Have you ever felt curious of how a shadowspawn is born?" Prey, she was not.

"I have heard." She replied, allowing him his false sense of security as he approached. In her own experience distance fight with one of his nature would end up badly for her. A close fight and she might be able to cause enough damage with the dagger before he muttered the first spell. "Not something I am interested on though."

Dark brown gaze met her silvery one and smirked. "Is that so?" He stopped close to her, his dark robe almost brushing against her bare midriff. "Tsk. Perhaps you will reconsider once the spawn grows inside you. Then again…" And he leaned in, placing hands at either side of her head. "That depends if you will live through the spawn cla-"

The point of the dagger firmly pressed against his throat, cut his babbling effectively. She smirked at him. "No. I do not think I want to test that theory."

His eyes bled to a deep amber color and a low growl vibrated against the blade. He pressed closer, regardless of the blade almost puncturing his skin, letting her see the beast that peeked through his eyes. "Feisty. Yes, breaking you will be entertaining." She could almost see him becoming larger as the shadows around him turned visible, thickening, readying for the change. His hands grew, dark claws forming and his teeth elongated.

She had never seen a worgen's change that close, it was almost hypnotising, nevertheless hesitation lasted only a second. Her eyes narrowed and shifted to push in the dagger, but was too late.

He jumped back almost as if her closeness had burnt him. Shadows coiled back into his body, once again under control. Smirk gone and replaced by the tightening of lips. The dark cowl had shifted back from his face, revealing more of his features for her to commit to memory. "What are you doing here?"

He spoke as if he knew her or more likely of her. She raised a brow but did not lower the dagger. "I have my reasons."

"I bet." He muttered in a low growl. "Leave before the Mind's eye finds out his favoured pet has escaped from her leash."

She narrowed eyes but her initial retort died on her lips as she tilted her head slightly. "You are scared of him."

A blast of shadow crashed on one of the racks, engulfing it in purple flames. He turned to her, dark gaze turned into a similar void's hue. "I'm a good match to the Darklord, elf." He said the last as if it was an insult. "I do not fear him or anyone else."

She scoffed, glancing from the burning pieces and back to him. "Impressive fireworks. Your temper says otherwise though." She smirked.

"Leave." He growled through gritted teeth. "And remember, one day you will not have him to hide behind."

"I do not hide behind anyone. Nor I back down for fear to another's threat."

He regarded her for a long moment. "So I've heard." He looked over a shoulder, to where steps and the unmistakeable sound of chains approached, someone whimpered. The devious smirk made it back to his lips. "Ah, they arrive. Stay to wat-"

She heard him scoff and mutter under his breath, but she was already making her way back to the Darklord's chambers. Using the second long distraction, she had melded back into the shadows and slipped from the room. She did not want to know whatever it was that he had planned to do, especially did not want to see the one that had whimpered in fear. Battles are to be carefully chosen, she knew well, and that one was not one she was fit to fight on her own.

Her way back was almost as easy as before. She passed empty after empty corridor until she reached the chamber. She sighed and silently stepped through, closing the door behind herself.

"Did you enjoy your midnight stroll, Kyphaz?"

Crap. She glanced forth to see the Dark lord's form standing in the middle of the room. Hood pulled back and arms crossed in a stern posture.

She felt a smirk crossing her lips. "Was a unique experience."

* * *

Frost hued gaze glinted with necromantic energy. She stepped into the torture chamber as silently as death herself and had settled with stern posture in a corner, hidden by its darkness. Not the screams, nor the cries of the woman chained to the wall or the devious laugh and taunts of the shadow lord perturbed her. She simply observed, emotionless to everything developing in front of her.

It had taken some time, for the man to become bored with his 'toy' but she had patiently waited. Taking all in to later on show her master, the Dark Lord and the one that had sent her to deal with Lord Zeroel.

So only when Zeroel had called for his personal servants to take the woman away, she stepped forth. The one of noble blood snapped around to face her, his deviant smirk wiped from his otherwise sensuous lips. Palms already forming dark energy, readying himself to unleash his power on the one spying. It took him but a moment to recognize the woman with dark skin and bone-white hair, not to mention the eerie blue gaze which characterized the scourgeborne. Shutting down his power, he returned to his overconfident cockiness he was well known by, the smirk slowly spreading on his lips much like the wolf when he caught sight of an easy prey.

"Kadijha." The name rolled on his Gilnean accent as a slow caress. "What is the Mind's Eye's favoured slave doing here? Have you found something to your liking? Perhaps the little show is something you'd like to experience by yourself." No need for him to deny it and even if caught red handed in something that was frowned upon even by the other lords of the cult, he did not care. With each word he took a step closer as if expecting her to back down. He should have known better. She just looked at him, impassive. "Let me guess, the Mind's Eye ways are too tame for you. Such a precious weapon should have a real master and not one afraid to take the necessary steps to achieve greatness."

He stopped close to her, so much that shadow aura and frost presence were bound to interlace. "The Mind's Eye has sent me with a message for you, Lord Zeroel." She simply replied, not moving from her place, not even when he made a tsk sound and placed fingers over her side, slowly tracing down the cool flesh.

"Whatever the he wants can wait, let's take some time to get to know each other better. Hrm?"

She glanced down to his hand for a second, then back up. Her unreadable expression was kept in place, not annoyance or any hint to being pleased by his advance showed.

"No."

He growled low, the beast taking over his eyes and turning them into the feral yellow of the worgen. "All the more fun for me."

He splayed fingers over her side, attempting even to slip his hand around her waist and into the battle kilt she wore and pull her closer to the front of his body. She did not move but his intruding touch was soon stopped by her hand on his forearm. The summoned power showing but with the extreme change in temperature from cool skin to frozen, and cold fumes coming from her hand and body. He did not have time to react, bone broke in a loud snap by the seemingly effortless pressure she applied.

Falling to his knees he screamed in rage and pain, holding the broken arm close to his chest. His voice was a lot more of a growl than anything else. "You are going to pay for this slave!"

She paid no attention, not once her visage changed but she silenced his cursing effectively by raising him by the throat. He grunted in protest, teeth bared in a furious snarl. "The Mind's Eye knows of your experiments. His message is the one and only warning you will receive. The Alliance has already sent someone to investigate so they at least suspect, women gone missing only to be found months later, dead, with signs of abuse and with their flesh torn open. Need not to see the kind of damage they have been caused, as well known are your 'tastes' within the shadowlords' circle. You have exposed us and will suffer accordingly if another is found or if more spies are sent our way." The message was delivered without the smallest sign of emotion, tone calm and distant, no strain shown even with the man struggling as she held him up.

He was just about turning darker by the lack of oxygen, her suffocating hold was unrelenting. "Understood?" She finished, piercing gaze meeting his.

A nod, as much as he was able to with his movements becoming sluggish, was the only reply. She did not say anything else but disposed of him as a rag doll. He crumbled on the floor, gasping for air and cringing against the pain of the broken arm. The marks of her fingers showed clear on his throat, both by bruising and frost burn.

Not another word was exchanged; she turned and left the dungeon. He glared, killing gaze trained on her back until she slipped into the darkness of the corridor.


	7. New Possibilities

**A.N. ** A big thanks to King Spoot to help me find motivation to keep writing and for helping flesh out all these stories.

* * *

Uncovered windows allowed dim light of the late afternoon, keeping the room in a calm atmosphere. The only sounds disturbing this peace where the heavy footfalls of plated boots, the gentle click of a door closing and the soft sound of breathing. A gentle breeze ruffled the purple drapes surrounding the crib in the middle of the room.

The figure stood there for a moment, facing the bed. Expression hidden under the shadows of his hood, only the occasional glint of eyes showed red hue from power forced to his will. He approached with oddly silent steps and raised a leather bound hand to part the see-through curtains and reveal that what they protected.

The crib itself was simple, yet precious in its fine craftsmanship. Dark wood, hand-polished to the best of Kal'dorian standards; wool and silk blankets covered a mattress soft yet firm enough not to cause any discomfort to its resident; and a single carving depicted the symbol of the night elf goddess. That brought slight amusement to the lord. Knowing that, despite his lover, his wife, not being one of the best followers of her people's religions; she still clung to the belief of Elune bringing a blessing on the child.

The same eyes that had witnessed many horrors, most of which had been ordered by him to be carried out, ending and torturing many lives for different purposes. Those same eyes now focused on the sleeping child. Her skin was that of deep pink typical of her mother's lineage. Her pale curls were short enough to barely form a light shadow over her head, right then difficult to determine if it would become the pure white of her mother's or more of his silvery blond shade. Pointed ears slightly angling back clearly stated her as a kaldorei, if not one of mixed blood. Her hands seemed fragile, small fingers curling and uncurling a she shifted in apparent restless dream. A small frown appeared between the lord's brows and he removed the gauntlet to trace the back of a finger over her cheek, he wondered if she already dreamt of running through the dark forest, perhaps she was. He snorted. Much like her mother, he was sure she was going to grow to be equally or more energetic if the pregnancy had been of any indication.

_Such a fragile child_, he observed, _so defenceless in a dangerous world. _

He left the side of the crib to remove the rest of his armor and casted a last glance out of one of the windows. The sun was nearly set, darkness finally taking over the orange-red sky. It was then that he turned to the larger bed, the one where an elven woman rested on her belly with hands under a pillow and head slightly tilted to the side. His dark expression turned to one of amusement. Her long white hair covered most of her back and only a silk sheet covered the curve of her waist to her legs. He eased himself at her side and slipped a hand under her pillow, her arm tensed for a second and he leaned down to whisper directly to her ear.

"You won't need this." She made a soft sound, one almost as a scoff and he removed his hand to deposit the dagger on the ground. Armed even while asleep would have expected no less from Kyphaz.

When he turned again, he looked into her silvery eyes. Her own amusement showed in a smirk. The Dark Lord chose to ignore it for the moment and wrapped his arm under her to pull her to his side. "Night has not fully set." He simply reminded, lying back with his other arm folded under his head.

She rolled eyes, but made herself comfortable. "I am not that tired and you are not exactly quiet."

He grunted in reply and tapped gently the top of her head, gaining a glare. "Sleep."

After the last few days she was still recuperating and did not fight his insistence, instead, she closed eyes and it did not take long until her breathing slowed and she fell asleep. Peace once regained he simply stared at the top of the ceiling and allowed fingers to trace up and down her arm.

Lips pressed into a thin line, feeling the scars that ran all the way down to her wrists. It still bothered him that she had been in danger and that he had come so very close to losing her. She reminded him that his presence wouldn't have changed anything, that she would have still gone with her Order to the mission which ended with her capture and subsequent torture in the hands of a rogue death knight. He often thought that only by locking her in a dungeon, maybe even with cuffs on hands and ankles and a handful of guards would he be able to keep her away from danger she seemed to love to expose herself to.

He glanced down to her and was pleased to see her peaceful expression, although he enjoyed well her annoyed and absolutely angry snarl too. Theirs was a complicated relation, one where both loved and hated each other from the beginning and neither would have it any other way. Not only testing, but pushing boundaries and his patience to the thinner of threads; becoming his own personal headache; being possessive and putting herself at risk every time he turned his back. Although the last had changed in the past year or so, when he brought her once again to his side and she had reluctantly accepted. He had wondered, even had expected to find his bed empty after that first night back, instead she had surprised him by laying her head on his chest and falling into a peaceful sleep. Much like she was now.

She turned in his arms as if sensing his eyes on her. This did not bother him since she was now lying on her back and the cover had shifted enough to rest just below her navel. His fingertips caressed the new scar which marked a path below her belly button and the haunting memory became alive once again.

He sighed with lips pressed to her head. She had scared him during those long hours of labour, complicated birthing, the child not rightly positioned. He had rightly threatened at least three servants to be slowly tortured had anything happened to either kaldorei or child. At the end, it had been his own hand driving a dagger through skin and muscle to free a struggling child, and his twisted power the one that forced skin and muscle to knit itself back together leaving a thin scar behind. Soon after the servants were all waved away, no one else would touch her. He still would not speak about their fate to her, since they had showed him to be no more than skittish failures. Still, he had found comfort on seeing her weak but otherwise well and with hands wrapped about the clean and clutching child.

His hand reassumed a slow and soothing path from side to hip and back. A frown appeared between his brows once again, a dark thought forming, one he had dismissed long ago. Would it be possible to link souls or at least power between them? To connect them in such a way that he would now every time she was in danger, linked minds akin to that of Shan'do and Thero'shan. He knew the nature of his power might be able to make it happen, to a risk, a cost that now that they had someone else to protect, she might truly consider on taking.

He allowed himself to close eyes and rest for now, to enjoy the last minutes of peace and comfort before mother and child woke. That and before he had to reassume the proper punishment on those that had failed him. Their screams and begging still rang in his ears but it was the image of her suffering that drove the lord to find a focus for his frustration.


End file.
